The Sedalia weekly bazoo. [volume] (Sedalia, Mo.) 187?-1904, 1887-11-22

of the knowledge he year ago would
have bartered an eternity to gain. he
sprang forward and clasped her wildly
| in his arms.
AS they all left the church together
none of them observed the girl stand
ing mute and white in the great pew
but little more than an arms reach
away. Long after the door had
changed behind them she stood so. gaz.
ing forward into vacancy with fearless
eyes.
Forget me-" he wrote. "She was
more to ME than ] knew. l have
wronged you bitterly-too bitterly &c
ask or hope for forgiveness. But ]
could not stay and let my whole life
with you be lie She can do with me
what she will, and yield. God knows
l wish you happiness Goodbye"
No wretch of the galleys was ever
more securely shackled than he. Did
he regret it? He could not tell, but
though every day she babe him GO if
he 80 chose, he did not And here, to-
night, at his own table. amidst his own
friends, she was jibing at him on a sub
ject he had begged of her, as she val
ued his peace, TO let rest.
1t was after. the opera where they
had both tasted anew of the triumph
that seemed all the sweeter by reason
of the charms its comparative nov
city had lent to it And they
were all here at his house,
gay, witty Bohemians, every one of
them, presenting company of which
every second member was the possess
or of genius in some guise or other.
Tragedians, singers, poet or two and
trio of scholarly critics from the
great daily newspapers were there.
and all were listening with vast appre-
citation to the raillery of the brilliant
woman. the queen of prima donnas.
who sat at the foot of the table.
Marriage" laughed she, gaily, in
reply to the jest of an elderly journal
ist, "bah! my dear Victor. Marriage is
a specter. an ogre, that sensible peo-
pie avoid as mariners do the reef upon
which the lighthouse stands. Marriage
is the Gate of Tears of the Ocean of
Genius. In marriage, what have youa
For an hour, intoxication, kisses-yes.
happiness, if you will. And afterwards
mutual disappointment, disenchant-
ment and misery, tempered by the
consolation in some cases. perhaps,
that one might have done even worse
if given time. Marriage is the true
artists bottomless pit, which she
should prefer to walk fifty miles round
rather than attempt to jump over. As
for romance, have you not it in the
adorer whom you keep in satisfactory
and interminable condition of Jacob
like seryitude for that which he may or
may not obtain-as l keep Guy, thereP
Poor Guy"-heedless of the passion
rising in his pale, tired face-"now
marriage might have suited him. He
played me false, the rascal. Flew away.
like liberated canary, and built him
nest in a little hole of village in the
New Hampshire hills, where he had re-
duced the people to a condition of tear
ing their hair out by the roots out of
worship for his singing. He can sing.
you know-a little. And worse than
that, too. His nest was too capacious
for solitude, it seems. The rogue act
ually contemplated matrimony-he, of
all men! In a week. caught
him just in time-he was to
have welded yeritable little
maid of the hills-a white-faced little
woman with two cherries for a mouth
and eyes that you couldn't look into
without feeling just how hopeless a
sinner you We're. l really do believe
that for once Guy was in earnest, but
If she-h
He arose from the table, white as
death. "Silencew he Numbered.
From this hour l renounce-"